Page 34 of Red Flags and Rishtas
‘You think I would marry a random girl for the sake of a bet?’ he asked, chuckling at the ridiculousness of my posture as well as my statement.
‘Honestly, I wouldn’t put you above it.’
‘Ha ha,’ he said, his voice devoid of any humour.
‘Oh, and one more thing,’ I said, the wheels in my brain turning faster and faster. The adrenaline rush was back.
‘What?’
‘To win, we’ve got to make it official,’ I said.
‘How convenient for you. A wedding can take months to plan. That gives you far too much time to score a boyfriend,’ he said, shaking his head.
The waiter appeared to ask if he could clear the table, eyeing my uneaten toast with slight disdain.
‘Yes, please,’ I said, unfazed.
I had half a mind to ask for a refund, but I didn’t want Aadar to think I was cheap.
Once the guy had left, I continued, ‘Okay, not a wedding. But at least an engagement or roka. I’m sure you’ll be in a hurry to claim the girl as your own to protect her from other suitors anyway,’ I said the last part with honeyed sarcasm.
‘And what about you? How will you make it official? With an Instagram post?’ he let out a dry laugh.
‘Hey,’ I said, lighting up. ‘That’s actually a pretty good idea.’
‘Oh, come on,’ he said, throwing up his hands dramatically. ‘That’s bullshit.’
I leaned forward, looking him straight in the eye.
‘Think about it. An engagement is your way of telling your friends and family you’ve found someone and are officially off the market,’ I explained, holding his gaze. ‘That’s exactly the purpose a couply photo on Instagram would serve for me.’
He made a great show of thinking about it while we split the bill and got up to leave. His car was parked outside therestaurant, and I walked him to it, still waiting for him to answer.
‘All right,’ he said, ‘but both of you will have to do it.’
All the guys I knew, even the ones that had been in long-term relationships, maintained radio silence about their love lives on social media. Instagram was all about football, aesthetics and art for them. Getting a brand-new boyfriend to put up an Instagram post about me would be laborious, if not impossible. But I knew from the way Aadar’s jaw was set that this was non-negotiable.
‘You’ve got yourself a deal,’ I said, extending my hand to shake on it.
After he’d sped away, I checked my phone for the first time that afternoon. I had two texts from Pooja, the first to ask me where I was, and the second to inform me that she had emailed me this week’s task list and was leaving for the day. It was only then that I realised I’d spent close to two hours on this lunch, without any idea of where the time had gone.
8
Blast from the Past
Even though i hadspent most of my life in Delhi, save for the two years I lived in Bangalore to do my post-graduation, I hadn’t managed to pick up some of the key tactics and habits Delhiites were known for. I couldn’t, for example, eat chaat off the streets without spending the entirety of the next morning in the loo. I couldn’t hurl abuses at every motorcycle driver who cut in front of my car while I drove. And I couldn’t, for the life of me, bargain.
‘Bhaiya, give me a fair price,’ said Vrinda as she ran her hand over the red silk fabric.
‘I called you shishter, didn’t I? I would never try to deceive you,’ said the man with a thin moustache, sounding incredibly earnest.
We were in a sari shop in the bustling market of Lajpat Nagar, where I had been forced into helping Vrinda source fabrics for her mother’s boutique. This was the seventh store we had visited this afternoon, and I’d warned my friend I wasn’t willing to come out of it empty-handed. It was surprisingly less crowded than some of the other shops, even though it had an air-conditioner to give customers some relief from the dreadful heat outside. I sipped on my cola bottle with a straw as the two of them continued to bicker in good humour.
‘Can you show me some material for the blouse?’ V asked, shelving the bargaining for later.
‘Shishter, give me five minutes. I have the perfect blouse for this piece, but it’s in Chacha’s shop,’ the man said, hopping off the display platform.
‘We’re in a hurry,’ she said, even though we both knew we were going to be here for a while.
